


Anyone but You

by Kandalyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Beating, Cruelty, Dark Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, If you only read one work by me, Masochism, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandalyn/pseuds/Kandalyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine getting beat up by a possessed Dean. Rated for abuse, violence, blood, and sexual assault. OC is...you, the reader! Chapter two: You X Dean Winchester, as voted for by readers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anyone but You

A/N: I don't know why I wrote this imagine, maybe to indulge my inner masochist, but this fic is indeed brutally masochistic and definitely not suitable for everyone. Original idea is not my own (prompt from Tumblr), characters belong to Supernatural. This work, though, is mine. So…enjoy the fanfic?

~

You rest for a moment to calm your breathing, leaning against the cold wall and closing your eyes. You hated splitting up with the boys as much as they hated leaving you alone- not because you were incompetent- but because the truth was that anything could happen on a hunt, and the worst thing that could happen often did. The three of you together had learned this all too well.

Out of habit, you absentmindedly wipe the werewolf's blood off your knife. Judging from where you found yourself, Dean would be the closest by. You take a few cautious steps into the dim hallway, then hurry down as quietly as possible. Its not long before you hear Dean's voice.

"Y/N!"

You freeze in alarm, turning your head in his direction. His voice is laced with sheer horror, the tone implying a warning of some kind.

"Dean?"

You run towards him, knife at the ready, already looking around anxiously for the danger. Dean grits his teeth, trembling violently.

"Dean!"

You grab his arm, shaking him gently. He opens his eyes, a flash of unmistakable fear glinting through before his demeanor abruptly changes. The tremors stop as he calms down visibly. You're struck with shock at this brief occurrence and jump a step back in confusion.

"What the hell was that?"

Dean fixes a steady stare on you, his characteristic calmness somehow sending chills straight down your spine. He raises his hands as if to show that he's unarmed, stepping forward slowly. Inexplicably you find yourself stumbling backwards, bells of panic ringing clearly in your eardrums. Something is very, very, wrong.

Suddenly Dean's hand snaps forward, catching you by surprise. It strikes you just above the wrist, sending your knife clattering across the ground. A tiny shriek escapes you as you turn to sprint away, more perplexity than fear. A solid force hits you in the upper back, slamming you into a wall. You fling a fist out at Dean, but the action is futile. You've punched Dean before; It was like slapping concrete.

He turns you around so you face him, pinning you by the shoulders. Slowly, you raise a hand to wipe blood from your scraped cheek, then swing at the side of his face with as much force as you can call up. Dean moves quickly but loosens his hold just a tiny bit. You lunge for your knife, only for Dean to kick you hard in the leg and send you sprawling, narrowly missing your own weapon.

"You can stop." The cold, awful steadiness in his voice makes you shiver.

"Dean-" The tremor in your voice is cut off as he pulls you to your feet, strong hands around your neck in a chokehold.

"I'm sorry to say that this particular Winchester will be…absent for a little while. Not completely gone." He adds, chuckling at the naked fear in your eyes. "I've kept him around. I'm sure he'll enjoy this every bit as much as I will."

Ripples of fury and dread course through your veins.

"He wont, you…Dean, come ba-"

You're cut off again as "Dean" slaps you hard across the face, smacking your head against the wall. The world tilts erratically as you try to regain your senses, gasping and choking for air against the one hand still wrapped around your neck.

"Sam be here for a while, and then we'll have a little surprise for him too, wont we?" You clench your teeth hard and squeeze both eyes shut.

"I would stab you, Y/N. Slice you into pretty little ribbons. But I'm sure Dean here would appreciate something a little more…hands on."

Your head slams against the wall one more time before he twists your arm forcefully to one side. A cruel laugh sounds out at your gasp, and Dean- no, no, this isn't Dean, can't be Dean- flings you to the floor. A strangled cry escapes you as pain explodes in your wrists, and then he lifts your hand to take hold of the fingers. You steel yourself but fail to hold in a shriek as he presses them to the wall, smashing the bunt handle of his knife into them one by one.

"Dean…" You sob, then scream. "STOP, DEAN!"

He responds with a kick to the chest, inhuman strength bringing the awful sound of snapping bone. Pain makes you bury your cries in your throat as Dean kneels over you, knife in hand. You try to turn away, incapacitated by the sensation of your broken ribs, pained beyond words at the look on his familiar face. Were these Dean's eyes in hell? Did he enjoy torturing those souls as much as-

No. This wasn't Dean.

He slashes the blade up the side of your face, narrowly missing an eye. Blood warms your neck, blots our your vision. The knife traces gently over your throat, red lines stinging the tender skin. The corner of your eyes finds your knife, just within your grasp.

Dean gets up, stomps on your ankle. The pain, as well as the sickening noise, makes you cringe and howl. He grabs you by that ankle and yanks you up, but you swing your good hand out and snatch up the knife to slice at his arm. Dean drops you on the ground, and with the last of your dwindling strength you gain your balance before he can make a move, though every inch of your damaged body screeches in rebellion.

"Get out of him. Get out of him or I'll kill your vessel."

"Would you? Hurt your Dean?" He laughs, dropping his knife and taking a step forward. "Go ahead then, do it."

You stumble painfully, burning with humiliation and holding yourself up with nothing but raw will. Your arm is raised, knowing full well that one clean throw could end the nightmare.

But you can't. The demon, the vile, disgusting demon, is right. You can't kill him. The tears are cutting into your skin, silent sobs after sob ripped from your core.

"Please…Dean…"

And then, for the second time that night, you lose your knife.

"I don't understand you. Weak, pathetic creature you are." You sob again as you're pushed against the wall again, absolute despair painting your every sound. Another blow connects with the side of your face before Dean lets go. You collapse to your knees.

"Well, I guess I'll give Dean a little treat." You sob again, shake your head weakly as he removes his belt. "Shh…you love him, don't you? Couldn't kill him. Dean loves you too. He wanted this; I saw it in his head."

You want to scream, fight, dissociate, pretend its anyone but Dean. And it surely can't be, because the Dean you love is gone, locked away somewhere terrible in the back of his own mind. His hands find your hair, pull at it so hard your sobbing turns once more into screaming. And as you begin to pray that Dean can't see any of this, he caresses your lips so gently, you quiet down enough to try and beg him.

"No…please, Dean, no…"

One knee shoves painfully against your ribs as he takes hold of your jaw and forces himself into you. Fragmented thoughts fly through your mind as you begin crying again, hands pressing weakly against Dean's thigh. Hollow agony fills your muted moaning, and suddenly you're afraid that you might die here, die here from shame and asphyxiation. The hold on your hair and jaw never relaxes, your own uncontrollable crying preventing breathing just as much as Dean's relentless thrusts. Each one wreaks hell on your battered ribs.

And when Dean is finally finished, you can do nothing but lie there, crying and crying.

"I would let you live just to remember that."

The smug satisfaction in Dean's voice turns your muffled cries into aching screams that rack your ruined body with pain. You would be close to begging him to kill you if your uncontrollable weeping wasn't wiping out any attempt at speech. And then you hear them. The footsteps.

A new pain lances through your neck, but Dean's knife misses your jugular by an inch. The Sam and Castiel are all over him, yelling words that you can't quite make out.

Dear god, you think. Sam, exorcise him. And then-

-why in hells name do Sam and Cas have to see me like this.

Its much easier to let the light of your consciousness fade out.

~

And..that all. 

This is where I'll leave it for now, but if anyone wants a second part with the "aftermath", tell me so in the reviews. Also tell me who "you" want to be shipped with (Dean, Cas, or Sam) and I'll work that in as well. Please follow the story to be notified when the second part is up. As always, thanks for reading :)


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